


Who Let Me Captain This Ship?

by dr34m3rgurl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Headcanon, POV Second Person, Rare Pairings, i don't even know if this is going to have a plot, i just wanted more meukri in the world, seriously guys much of this is going to be my headcanons that I adore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr34m3rgurl/pseuds/dr34m3rgurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And once you'd noticed you had a reoccurring audience of one, you immediately began to feel uncomfortable. You weren't exactly sure how to handle this, you were used to being ignored, written off, ridiculed even on unlucky occasions.  It didn't process well in your think pan, Meulin sitting at the furthest edge of the little town's square. It took several week before you'd come to remember her disability. There was no possible way for her to hear you, and she was much too far away to make out anything through lip reading either.</p><p>This revelation did nothing to settle the uneasy pit that had started growing in your stomach. If anything, it confused you even more so. Why come every day when she clearly couldn't absorb the common sense you were spewing at length? Another thing. She stayed all the way through, always. Never said a word, never moved until you had finished, and with an unwavering smile plastered on her face.</p><p>Nothing got under your skin as much as this daily occurrence did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Didn't Want to Notice You. Honest I Didn't.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaah, hello! This is my first major attempt at fic writing, and actually my first time writing Kankri. I play Meulin a lot, so this'll be an interesting challenge for me. And I'm at least 80% sure that although she only has a few lines, I mischaracterized Aranea and I apologize for that. Without further adeu, please enjoy my fic and please realize that the fluff is later to come I just needed a bit of a long winded start.

You aren't entirely sure when you noticed it, even less so when she started in the first place, but you've noticed a certain olive clothed troll far in the background of the square of the town where you've decided to make your daily sermons. No one ever pays attention for very long- and that's frustrating to you. Everyone needs to know how offensive they could be. How much they could be triggering someone else, what they should be doing to stop that, and how to use the warning system so that they don't accidentally upset anyone else. It's basic social interaction, in your opinion, but these goddamn woolbeasts don't understand, not in the least. How could anyone be so stupid as to ignore the logic you've spent sweeps- even in your death- trying to instill in them?

And once you'd noticed you had a reoccurring audience of one, you immediately began to feel uncomfortable. You weren't exactly sure how to handle this, you were used to being ignored, written off, ridiculed even on unlucky occasions. It didn't process well in your think pan, Meulin sitting at the furthest edge of the little town's square. It took several week before you'd come to remember her disability. There was no possible way for her to hear you, and she was much too far away to make out anything through lip reading either.

This revelation did nothing to settle the uneasy pit that had started growing in your stomach. If anything, it confused you even more so. Why come every day when she clearly couldn't absorb the common sense you were spewing at length? Another thing. She stayed all the way through, always. Never said a word, never moved until you had finished, and with an unwavering smile plastered on her face.

Nothing got under your skin as much as this daily occurrence did.

Was she mocking you? That's all you could think of as explanation, she was presented with the unique opportunity to do so, posing as an interested on looker from afar, but you knew better. She couldn't hear you, she probably didn't care too. She was there to ridicule you. Of course. No one really listened, you knew this. You've accepted it even, but it didn't mean you still tried regardless. There was comfort in a habit, and this little insignificant deterrence wasn't going to make you stop.

Another week dragged on before you'd learned to ignore it.

Meulin simply had been integrated in the every day act that was your daily lectures, sitting quietly in way in the back of the square, paying little attention to the other dead trolls that traveled through who also ignored you yourself. It bugged you still, yes, but less so now that it felt normal to have her there, a little piece of decoration more or less.

So when they day came that the little piece of city decoration wasn't standing there. Not in her usual spot, not in any new places around in your vision, you were rather surprised to find yourself highly agitated. Sure, you knew it'd happen eventually, she'd get bored and stop tagging along. You didn't expect to feel so... so let down. An annoyance or not, she'd been your only consistent audience member. Ever. Not in life, in death, or any other limbo of existence, had anyone bothered to show up to your sermons so religiously.

You were so taken aback by this turn of events that you couldn't start. A few curious stares as trolls passed by, you vaguely recognized faces. Some traveled through here every day, it was a well traveled spot, this is why you spoke out here. You could feel the burning stares, anticipate what they were thinking. Some of them even spoke it aloud.

“Oh, did the insufferable run out of things to say?”

“Thank god he's silent today.”

“What, no words of wisdom?”

“Quiet for once, what a pleasant change.”

“Lets hope there's a repeat performance tomorrow.”

These were easier to ignore than it should have been. You should have been chiding them for their ignorance, telling them how they're lucky to have someone so well versed in social justice as you, but nothing would come.

Meulin wasn't here today and you needed to know why. The question was bubbling in your think pan too much for you to be allowed to ignore it.

You carefully weaved through the crowd, exiting this instance of the dream bubble and looking for another. All the while your mind was reeling.

How dare she. How dare she make you so comfortable and used to her presence when you should have been working for the betterment of all the trolls. How dare she make her absence affect you this badly, it shouldn't affect you that much. How did she do it? Why did she do it? To taunt you- wasn't that your original conclusion? Perhaps she'd finally decided it was time to cash in on the fruit of her efforts. Oh the earful she would get- wait that would possibly be rather offensive for a deaf girl. Wait you didn't care, you was mad and wanted answers.

The ground wavered under your feet as you stepped onto one of the giant floating lily pads. Paled eyes scanned over the connected plants, not spotting the olive-blooded troll anywhere. However, Kurloz was here. Kurloz gave you the creeps. To be fair, he gave everyone the creeps. You had the sneaking suspicion he liked it that way.

Kurloz gave you a half wave, and even under his painted features you could see his surprise and curiosity. You never ventured out here. Of course you knew where it was, you knew where all the other trolls from your session hung out, you were their leader of course. You needed to know these kinds of things.

Perhaps he could answer your question, but there was the small-ish problem of the Capricorn being mute. How perfect, a mute to match the deaf troll you were searching for. To avoid possibly offending either, you'd learned to sign the alphabet at the very least, but couldn't bother yourself to learn any more signs than that. There were other more pressing things to occupy your time, learning sign language was not one of them.

M-E-U-L-I-N

Your hands were clumsy with the letters, and your expression punctuated your question. All you could do was hope that he wouldn't start flashing a flurry of unknown signs at you. For all you knew he would have been asking you something offensive in return.

And you could have heaved out your relief when he signed six letters in return, slow enough to allow you to comprehend. Steadier than your hands had been, too.

A-R-A-N-E-A

He smiled at you, and yes it was still creepy, his stitches evenly splayed across his mouth. Unsure of how to respond you opted to leaving without another word. Not an explanation, not a question, not that questioning him further would prove any sort of useful. Or maybe it would, but you hadn't the patience to read slow, letter-by-letter signs at the moment.

As you left, an uncomfortable emotion bubbled in your chest. Rather scrutinizing the feeling to identify it, you let your thoughts flow freely in your think pan. You'd probably realize what it was sooner or later.

Firstly, Meulin was apparently with Aranea. You quite liked spending time with Aranea, and could sometimes talk at length with her about your issues with the issues of society. Sometimes. Other times, you could never get a word in edge wise, the equivalent of historical gossip being shoved into your head with such vigor you often had to just walk away to feel a sense of normalcy with the world. Never mind you had just done what every other troll had done to you, although you never felt guilty about it. It was a different situation entirely, after all.

What if Meulin was playing the same bait game with Aranea? Acting all interested in what she had to say, playing up the little swell of joy Aranea had whenever someone actually listened to her, even if Meulin couldn't do much in the way of listening. Angry? Did that make you feel angry? Somehow, you weren't certain the unnamed emotion was hot enough to be called angry. Or even a lesser mad, for that matter.

This whole thing was frustrating. Wait was that it? It sounded close but... what was so frustrating over Meulin being with Aranea and paying attention to her instead of standing and watching you lecture? So much for not over analyzing yourself until you identified the stupid emotion growing in you stomach.

So what if Meulin was with Aranea? You didn't care, You really shouldn't. Why did you care? Why?

Meulin's voice was the first to thing you were able to hear, of course. It was loud, and slurring, reeking of disability. And heavily saturated with those annoying cat puns she'd grown so fond of.

“But Pawranea!”

Whatever Aranea had said in reply went unheard in your ears, you're still too far away to hear her more normal levels of talk.

“I know I know, but I have somewhere else to be too mew know!”

You get closer, Aranea's words still are hard to hear.

“Mew said it wouldn't take that long, do mew realize how long it's been Pawranea? Much longer than mew purromised!”

“Meulin you simply can't stop a good story once it's started, I'm not even close to finished yet, there's so much more world building left, characterizations that I've yet to touch on, important plot points I've yet to indulge!”

“I know really Pawranea but mew said it wouldn't take this long! I still have to-”

“Have to what Meulin? Go listen to one of the Insufferable's drabbles?”

Ouch, that one stung. And here you'd thought Aranea was semi-decent.

“Be nice!”

“Honestly Meulin, how can you sit there and absorb all that self entitled rubbish?”

“Mew don't unpurrstand...”

“Then help me to.”

You haven't been spotted yet, good for you, and now you were half hiding behind a rather convenient tree that wasn't too far off to eaves drop on. You gave a cautious glance around the tree, and could see Meulin tensing up slightly, a thoughtful expression. As if she were carefully thinking how to word how conniving she'd been over the last several- you had to think. It'd been... months maybe? At least three, you think. Much too long in any case.

“Mew know I can't pawctually hear him right?”

“Meulin you're avoiding the question.”

“No- I'm not. I'm trying to tell mew honest! Just- hear meow-t fur a second, pawkay?” You see her heave a big sigh. “I can't pawctually hear him, to tell mew the truth, I don't remempurr his voice eifurr. Or what mewr voice sounds like, or Purrloz's, or even my own. Pawranea... I don't remempurr what my voice sounds like.” Her voice dropped down low- which to be honest wasn't very low. About a socially acceptable levels now, but low for the cat-like troll.

Aranea looked puzzled now, nodding along silently. Occasionally punctuating the other girl's explination with an 'mhmm' or an 'ahh' of vague understanding.

“But I really. Really like watching Kankitten talk.” Meulin seemed to look down slightly, her tangled mess of curly hair covering most of her face from his view now. “Beclaws he does it fur so long, it kind of reminds me of when I could still hear. Even if I don't remempurr what efurrything sounds like, it makes me happy to watch. Mewby beclaws no ofurr kitty takes the time to be happy they can hear him? They're just pawnnoyed at efurrything he has to say. Ofurr all? It just makes me happy.”

What.

Suddenly, eaves dropping seems very, very wrong. This is not something you were meant to hear. Yes, it's a conversation revolving around you. Yes, they need to check their gossiping privileges, but this? You couldn't even begin to figure out how to digest this little revelation. And as you quietly slipped away all you could think was how you couldn't believe that Meulin seeing Aranea instead of you made you jealous.

There's the word. Jealous, you had been jealous.


	2. I've tried everything to keep you out of my head today, honest I did.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thought out of the jumbled mess in your think pan that you 're clearly able to zero in on was how impressed you were at all the various forms of cat-puns Meulin was able to make with your name.
> 
> The second was you noticing the way your pulse had shot up when she turned back around that last time and smiled at you just before leaving. How your blood pusher beat so hard that you could practically hear it ready to fly out of your throat.
> 
> The final thought was more of a realization. One that nearly sent you into either a fit of exasperated groans or a state of panic or something else entirely, you couldn't decide which was most appealing yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! This was only written so incredibly fast because one of my shifts at work was so ungodly slow that I whipped out my notebook and started writing, don't expect it to always be like this, kay! In any case, hope you enjoy this chapter cuz it was kinda fun to write Kankri pissed at himself as well as some of my own vague ideas about the Beforus troll's gameplay.

Jealous. You couldn't believe you were jealous of something so insignificant. And yes, currently you were trying to focus on that rather than the uncomfortable epiphany you'd just overheard. Sure, you'd handled feelings of things like envy before, such as the powers and skills all of your teammates had inherited through your run in with the dangerous game known as Sgrub.

Meenah, for example, with her thief powers had proved herself to be quite the asset to the team. While at the time she didn't have the skill to take down enemies by herself, she'd been a rather tenacious opponent to take down, what with the constant healing of her wounds at the cost of her enemies health.

You clearly remember thinking you'd gotten the raw end of the deal. Seer powers, of blood no less. You disliked every ounce of your passive skill, leaders should be in the thick of things after all. Not that you were universally accepted as the leader, but you knew better. Your direction had proven very useful on many occasions, but death was still unavoidable.

If you recalled correctly, Aranea was the first to die. It was... a heroic death. Really it was, She was also the first to reach godtier, and was constantly using her sylph powers to fix the rest of your teams minor injuries while fighting against the Black King. Everyone was fighting, everyone was getting their asses handed to them. Latula was first to realize it was a loosing battle, she sounded the retreat. Aranea had said that she'd buy the rest of you the time you needed to get away and would catch back up with you as soon as she could.

The problem was, she never did.

You suppose on some level, especially with your game given gifts, you knew she wasn't going to. Blinded by both your self preservation instincts, and the idea of the near-immortal status of godtier, you left her anyway. All of you did. And that was that, she died.

Many of your team died before Meenah made the executive decision to, in her so eloquently stated words, blow everyone the fuck up, while saving her own demise for last so she could initiate the scratch herself. What a burden she'd taken on... you certainly didn't envy her for _that_. Although it was the best option anyone had been presented with, you were a little steamed she'd never consulted with everyone about it. 

And for everyone else who had already gone godtier, apparently it was either a Just or Heroic death, although you would have bet all your boondollars on Just. There was nothing on Beforus that could describe a handful of trolls blown to bits by their supposed teammate as a Heroic death. Meenah, hers was probably the Heroic death, that much you were certain of, and as much as you hated to admit it.

Long story short, all of you died but continued existing.

Continued feeling. Continued with things that should have just ended.

Then you wouldn't feel so weird about-

No you still weren't thinking about that. You couldn't, anyway, there was the matter of that oath you'd taken several (hundred? How did time even pass in the bubbles, you hadn't kept track very well) sweeps ago. Absolute abstinence.

Wait why were you already jumping to that sort of conclusion, she said she liked watching you talk, not that she wanted to jump at the chance to pail with you. Not like it was some declaration of flushed feelings or anything.

Nope.

You'd be lying to yourself though, if you didn't get some bubbling sense of pure ecstatic joy to know what you knew now. It may not have made a difference in the world as you were hoping to, but your constant sermons had a positive reaction with someone. 

Never mind that you were quick to box that joy away, place it somewhere on a high mental shelf where you would never let it see the light of day again. You were going to be professional about this, pretend that you didn't know what you knew about the thing you weren't going to think about any more. After all, if you knew that thing you _definitely_ didn't know about, you wouldn't be able to properly face your next sermon, especially knowing Meulin would be there, as per usual.

Oh. Oh no.

Meulin was going to be there again tomorrow.

You definitely you couldn't face her tomorrow. Well, not that you'd actually be facing her, she'd be an object in the crowd as usual, but you were fairly certain you wouldn't be able to stay coherent and orderly during your speech. You almost felt pressured now, pressured to make a good impression. Why? You hardly knew Meulin that well anyway, why should you have to make a good impression anyway?

Would it technically be a good impression if you'd already made an impression of some sort? You supposed that it'd be more of a continued favorable impression. Sounded reasonable and all, but you only had one self reflective question left. Why?

Why did this suddenly seem so large and demanding of your attention, so important and worthy of your time? You'd never cared before what people thought about you. Especially when they didn't have nice things to say. A few kind words and suddenly you felt like jelly in the knees. This was stupid, your head hurt. You just wanted to rest your head, wish away the time until things made sense again. Maybe tomorrow would make more sense tomorrow.

There the thing. The dead are already dreams, in the simplest of terms. Sleeping in these dreams in all essence, was pointless. No dead trolls or otherwise actually _need_ sleep in the strictest sense of the term. To be perfectly honest however, prolonged suspension of ones consciousness did wonders to ones stress levels. So when you wake the next day, only assuming what could be called the next day, you felt slightly better than before you'd taken to your recoopracoon.

Not as significantly better as you would have hoped. 

And for the first time since you'd started, you find yourself dreading the start of your day. It was a deliberately lethargic process to get out of your slime and into the bath to clean the left over sopor off. You'd already laid out your clothes for the day, the usual high waisted pants with the scratchy and coarse sweater to cover it. You'd never admit to Porrim how much it helped keep out the biting chill that wasn't entirely too pleasant. Although, you found yourself constantly wishing she'd used some softer yarn so that your arms didn't feel like well used scratching posts at the end of the day.

You were equally slow getting dressed as you were getting the very start of your day going. It was hard to want to get going, and to say the very least it was an interesting experience. You've never felt so lazy in your life, or death. Every moment was spent towards some project or another. All your energy into drafting new lectures, studying new words in the dictionary for fun, or just patrolling the streets with your little whistle firmly attached to your mouth, blowing away at every trigger you would come across.

And you considered letting this continue, just taking a lazy day. It might even be enjoyable staying home all day doing nothing and definitely not avoiding Meulin that was a preposterous idea. You had nothing to avoid her for anyway, you didn't know what happened yesterday, you gave your daily lectures as usual and the cat-like troll just happened to not be their today, giving up her folly of feigning attention to your plights with society.

You wished that wishing worked, that that's how the events of the previous day had transpired. You wished you weren't confused about what to do next. You wished you knew what your emotions were doing at the moment. You wished you knew for certain she wasn't going to be there today, because staying home all day was going to be boring and torturous.

Perhaps it would be best to brush up on some literature you'd been neglecting? Your shelf is full of dusty tomes you haven't touched in ages. None of them were thinner than the length of your thumb, just the way you liked them. It was a small comfort, aged leather and musty pages filled with wisdom and knowledge you'd long since memorized, although holding them again was like greeting an old friend. Not that you knew exactly what greeting a friend would feel like, not many were happy to be in your presence. None except-

Dammit. Why? Why were all of your thoughts making roundabouts back to Meulin? You haven't even been awake for more than a few hours, approximately two if your sense of time wasn't skewed today, which was a very real possibility actually.

You just- ugh, wanted a break, a mental one. One where your train of thought didn't constantly circle back to _her_. You pick up your book, Complacency of the Learned, and open the front cover. This one was fairly new, at least compared to all your other books, and to be quite honest you have no idea how it got there. But it's pleasantly thick, quite a bit larger than some of the others you own. You immediately lose yourself within the first few lines

 

Reality knocks on your door sometime later, after you'd managed to get maybe a quarter of the way through your book. It takes several moments longer for your mind to sift reality from the fiction- to be honest you weren't expecting a fictional story instead of your normal collection of essays and historical texts, but it was a pleasant surprise. You were quite enjoying yourself actually.

The knocking repeats itself, and you uncurl yourself from the chair you'd been resting in. Your back pops a few times as you stretch out your stiff joints, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you do so.

“I'm coming!” Your voice cracks slightly as you call out, probably because this was the longest length of time you'd gone without talking in quite awhile. Still, the knocking persisted. You grumbled low, something about impatient guests.

And then the realization hit you, and it hit you a moment too late, just as you were opening the door. You rarely, repeat that, rarely ever got visitors. The only possibilities for them could be Porrim- who actually was due for one quite soon. She hasn't bothered you in quite awhile. You hoped against all hope that it was her instead of-

“Hi Kankitty!”

Shit.

Your stomach sank, or churned, or tightened, or something. Whatever kind of reaction it was doing was most certainly a reaction to this very unexpected situation. Well, if you'd know she was going to come find you anyway you would have actually left your hive today, you almost felt cheated.

“Yoo hoo, Kankritter? Anykitty home?”

She waves her hand in front of your face, bringing you out of your daze. She's smiling in a manner your mind immediately wants to label as ditzy, but in a way it's kind of cute.

No. Nonono you didn't just think that.

“Yes, of course I am home Ms. Leijon, I answered the door did I not?”

“Not literally silly, you totally mewntally checked out fur a mewment there!” Her giggle was high and loud, and almost hurts your ears with the pitch.

“My apologies then, I was in the middle of a rather entrancing book, I may still be feeling a bit disoriented from the total fantasy immersion.” It wasn't a lie, just not the right answer to her question and you knew it.

“Oh! What were you reading?”

“Er- Complacency of the Learned.” Small talk, you weren't expecting that.

“That huge thing?” Her eyes widen, almost impossibly large. You can easily see the entire pale-green outline of what used to be her irises. The white out of the eyes that was a common sign of a dead being. “I couldn't get through the furrst few pages. Rafurr compurrlicated fur me!”

You get the ghost of a smug smile tugging at the corners of your lips, but you manage to keep it down.

“Really? You're missing out on a fantastic read then. You should give it another try, I can personally promise that it will be worth your time. I'm already a decent ways through, and I only picked it up today.”

“Mewby, but I find it just pawlittle too intimewdating fur me.” She's still smiling. Stop that, your stomach is still doing unidentifiable things and that isn't helping.

You suddenly realize you've had this little back and forth conversation in the doorway to your hive, without inviting her in or you yourself stepping out. Was that impolite? Social visits weren't your forte, not even by a long shot. You really hope you didn't offend her with your rude behavior- then again she did come unannounced. Nor has she yet to tell you the intent of her little visit. She just started chatting you up in her too loud voice as if you'd been moirails for sweeps. Never mind that she already had a moirail. You weren't about to encroach on that quadrant either. You weren't keen on being on Horuss's bad side.

Nor were you contemplating being Meulin's moirail, so being on Horuss's bad side shouldn't have even been thought of as an issue! The very idea was preposterous!

“Was there something that you needed, Ms. Leijon?” You were going to find out before you dared the polite thing of offering a seat inside. This you vowed.

“Oh, not really.” Not really? “I just wanted to make sure that you were pawkay!” She was checking up on you. “I mean I missed you yespurrday and you weren't there today eifurr!” She _missed_ you. “So I hope you'll be there tomewrrow!”

You're too stunned to say anything coherent, so you sort of just nod, hoping that conveys that you will indeed be 'there', at the town square again tomorrow for one of your infamous sermons as per usual. You give silent thanks when you find that your mouth wasn't hinged open with your surprise.

“Oh good!” Did she just sigh with relief? “I'll see you tomewrrow then!” And with that she turned on her heels, practically skipping away. She stopped short after several beats and turned around to face you again, cupping her hands to her mouth to accommodate the distance she'd created.

“Oh and Nyankri! You don't have to keep calling me 'Ms. Leijon' you know! It's totally feline if you just call me Meulin, 'kay?” With that being said, she resumed her departure and was soon out of sight.

You were still in the doorway. Apparently some time during your jaw had actually dropped from sheer disbelief.

The first thought out of the jumbled mess in your think pan that you 're clearly able to zero in on was how impressed you were at all the various forms of cat-puns Meulin was able to make with your name.

The second was you noticing the way your pulse had shot up when she turned back around that last time and smiled at you just before leaving. How your blood pusher beat so hard that you could practically hear it ready to fly out of your throat.

The final thought was more of a realization. One that nearly sent you into either a fit of exasperated groans or a state of panic or something else entirely, you couldn't decide which was most appealing yet. 

You'd somehow managed to develop a _small_ flush crush on Meulin Leijon.


	3. I Need to Tell Someone- Wait No That's A Bad Idea.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It'd been three days since Meulin paid you an impromptu visit and you've had three public lectures since. It would be a bold lie (you've been lieing to yourself a lot lately, why should this be any different?) if you didn't say that stepping up gave you nervous jitters now. That your palms didn't sweat and your hands give the slightests of quivers that you were always quick to hide behind your back. And she was there every time, which really shouldn't surprise you anymore, but you really couldn't help yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely pleased with this chapter? Oh well it's done and up so boo hoo, I get to move on to some awkward encounters next time.

You really really hate yourself for admitting to it. Honestly, would it have been so much harder to stumble along through several sweeps, petigrees, a few days more even, trying to convince yourself that you had no idea what was happening inside your own head? After all, you'd done a rather good job of telling yourself that Meulin was sitting in on your sermons just to spite you for an impressive length of time.

Well, to be fair with yourself, the speed of these awfull and awkward affections had literally only been planted the day before you'd admitted to it to yourself. It took sprout like a damned weed and no matter what you tried to occupy your thoughts with, nothing could crowd it out.

It'd been three days since Meulin paid you an impromptu visit and you've had three public lectures since. It would be a bold lie (you've been lieing to yourself a lot lately, why should this be any different?) if you didn't say that stepping up gave you nervous jitters now. That your palms didn't sweat and your hands give the slightests of quivers that you were always quick to hide behind your back. And she was there every time, which really shouldn't surprise you anymore, but you really couldn't help yourself.

Mentally you cursed out the very small part of you that got giddy as a wriggler whenever you managed to spot her. That kind of behavior, not matter how introverted, was entirely unacceptable. It was unbecoming and childish of you. Dead at nine sweeps sure- but you've _existed_ much longer than that. You certainly were _not_ a child.

You needed someone to talk through this with. To be honest, you were desperate to get it off your chest. You found yourself wishing you had a moirail, someone who would let you vent without the worry of them turning around and shouting it to everyone within earshot. Or judge you for it. Mostly the first thing though.

Unfortunately, the only person you could think of to vent to were likely to do either. Or both. Surely there was someone else, anyone else really, but you were drawing a blank.

You gave a heafty sigh, knowing you'd regret your choice later, but you were positively desperate for some form of vocal relief, and you knew that Porrim would have the best advice for you. Even if she was going to ask a lot of personal and invasive questions as soon as she caught whiff of your dilemma. 

You were actually banking on some of those questions. At least, you hoped she'd physically be able to put into words the things you were denying to yourself.

At the very least, you were hoping the shock of this revelation would keep her silent for awhile. Her talent for gossip was a force to be reckoned with, but you needed someone to talk to a lot more than you feared her grapevine connections. Which was actually saying quite a bit.

You straighten your sweater as you step outside, adjusting the collar so that it's not quite so frumpy that you'd been a little ashamed to be seen out in public with. Good thing it was a short walk.

Or it wasn't supposed to be a short walk, at least. You're doing an awful lot more walking than you intended to. Where was she? Not at her hive, not at any of her usual hang outs, or her not so usual hang outs, and you find yourself becoming increasingly antsy.

You couldn't find Porrim anywhere.

This wasn't good. Not good at all, with all the mental prepping you've done to deal with this conversation you were on the verge of panic at being denied it. Porrim should be there when you need her, what was the point of all her incessant mothering if she wasn't around when you actually wanted her for once?

“Whoa Kankrish lookth like you're hella losht! Ehehe!”

Mituna was sitting on his skateboard on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest as he watched you wander about aimlessly. You must have been pacing in circles for awhile now, you could see a light trail in the dirt that you've worn in with your shoes. He grinned up at you, the only part of his face that was visible, the rest was covered by his protective helmet.

“Er- Just a tad.”

Conversing with Mituna wasn't the most pleasant thing in the world, so you made a few steps in an awkward sort of shuffle to get away. You couldn't exactly call it conversing even, Mituna's speech patterns often devolved into incomprehensibility that was just infuriating to try and decipher. More often than not you'd get a headache trying to listen to his drabbles for any length of time, and like your long talks with Aranea you'd have to walk away for the sake your mental health.

The craziest thought popped into your head.

It wouldn't be the kind of conversation you were hoping for, but Mituna wouldn't be able to go around blabbing your little problem. The idea of mental relief was too great to pass up, and with a smaller chance of it staying a secret than if you had found Porrim instead. Maybe this was a stroke of good luck in disguise? Goodness knows how much you'd appreciate one.

“Actually Mituna if you have a moment to spare-”

“Oh GOGTH ath if I had any thpare timeth to share for a long talk about thomething I didn't do!”

Well you can't say you didn't see that coming.

“I'll be brief Mituna- and no I'm not referring to any triggers or offensive you may or may not have incurred over the last several- whatever length of time it's been since I've seen you last. No- I was hoping you'd entertain the position of confidant for a short period of time? Assuming you've nothing against it?”

“Whoa Kankrish are you athking me for a feelingth jam?”

“NO!” You winced at the sudden yell you'd spit out, but it was hard to contain. Feelings jams were purely a pale activity, Mituna had a moirail already, and there was nothing you wanted less than to anger the painted clown by oozing pale all over his well established moirail. Wait did Kurloz even have the capacity to get angry? Not that you were willing to test those boundaries, it's not like having a (relatively small you remind yourself) flush crush on his ex-matesprit could possibly illicit such a strong response, right? “No- sorry no. Just someone to vent to, if you wouldn't be so negatively inclined?”

He looked- well you couldn't get a proper gauge at his expression because the helmet obscured everything but his mouth, but you would wager a guess that Mituna was confused. You held back a frustrated sigh, you didn't say anything confusing to be honest, but this _was_ Mituna you were talking to, the poor troll had a crack in his think pan that often let some of the more important thoughts slip through his grasp.

“Thure?” You were one hundred percent certain he had no idea what he just agreed to and you've never been more grateful for that.

It was an awkward start, telling the yellow blooded psiionic about hellish roller coaster your emotions and head alike have been over the course of the last few days. He was quiet the whole time, unnervingly so. Expressionless as far as you could tell, and at times you almost wondered if he'd fallen asleep sitting up on you. Not that you entirely minded, it still was a relief to say things out loud, even better if he wasn't paying total attention. He was there for it and it did wonders on your psyche.

“Well I suppose it started, if it has to start somewhere, when she started attending my lectures. I'd be a liar to say that I wasn't a little excited to start with, someone was listening to my very important information, but I had forgotten something rather critical and it took a while to remember it. It shifted my assumptions about her in that given situation. And I wasn't supposed to care so much, it was so much easier to rationalize everything in my head as simply a ploy to upset my status quo! As much as I loathe to admit it, it was working at first to, she made it rather uncomfortable to stand there and continue with that part of my daily schedule. I thought I'd gained the upper hand when I'd learned to ignore it- ignore her. Only the infuriating part is that I hadn't learned to ignore it per-say, but I'd gotten so comfortable with Ms. Leijon being there that-”

“Whoa whoa hold the fuckfathe up Kankrish!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing continue, pleathe.”

You gave him a weary glance, but he merely grinned in return, showing off his perfectly symmetrical fangs and saying nothing. Mituna even gave a little nod of his head, a nonverbal repeat of his last statement.

“... As I was saying, I'd been comfortable with her presence, which I only discovered that I'd been so because just a few days ago she _hadn't been there._ ” You gave a huff, if you'd known there that's where all of this mess would have started... “And I don't remember ever being so infuriated in any recent memory that I just had to find out why-”

“TL-DNR!” Mituna's shout was so sudden that you jumped nearly clean out of your skin. You gave him a glare that you were fairly sure spelled out your _WHY_ fairly clearly. You just weren't prepared at all for his answer. “Kankrish'th got a huge flush cruth on Meowlin!”

Your heart sank.

“Mituna please, you're j-jumping-” Did you just stutter? You don't stutter, you don't ever stutter. With a loud clear of your throat you continued. “Jumping to conclusions, I never said-”

“You implied it pretty hardcore Kankrish! Her thith and she that! OH man do you have it bad! Ehehehe!”

“You've no proof of that.” Nearly panicing now, you raise a finger in our defense. “Like I said, jumping to conclusions.”

“You never talk about anyone elthe tho much unleth you're talking angry at them with big wordth.”

Your mind worked to find an instance that disputed that. You found none. At least none that didn't previously involve his matesprit, Latula.

And there it was, shoved in your face. Meulin was giving you the same chest flutters that Latula used to, and hear you thought you'd put away that part of yourself for safe keeping. You were dumbstruck that Mituna could make that kind of connection to your behaviors more than you were about the final nail in the coffin that was your (you reminded yourself SMALL) developing flushed feelings for the olive blood.

You couldn't even bring yourself to deny it.

“Oh man oh man I gotta tell Tulipth she'th gunna be thyched!”

Panic rose even faster in your chest.

“No- Mituna _no!_ ” You reached out in a desperate bid to snatch a handful of his jumpsuit, but he'd already sprung upright on his board and with a single push off the ground was speeding away. For the troll notorious for falling he was doing a surprisingly good fleeing upright when all you wanted him to do was trip. You stood watching him wheel away, unable to make your feet give chase after him.

Mituna's absense left the damnedest feeling that you weren't leaving your hive tomorrow.

And you know what? You didn't leave the day after that either.


	4. I know you weren't expecting this, I wasn't either.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I said you should just go ask the Insufferable instead of me, I'm sure he'd be glad to see you.”
> 
> You gave a curious quirk of your head. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought she'd put quite a bit of emphasis on that last word. A better knowing part of your head knew not to press her any further, your curiosity would have to wait. After all, how did that human saying go? Curiosity killed the meow-beast?
> 
> “Alright then... have a good day Pawranea...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sudden perspective shift- Meulin's in charge for this chapter! Also look for end notes, and as always thank you for putting up with my writing!

Your name is Meulin Leijon and it's been a week since you've last seen Kankri Vantas. To be frank, the week's sucked so far. Watching him talk had become something of an addiction for you and it's been hard going without. Aranea's been a wonderful help as a sort of coping tool, but she has this awful habit of making sure you were paying attention to her stories, even when your mind has a tendency to wander off into pleasant daydreams.

No, with Aranea you always had to stay on target, which you really didn't like. You missed Kankri, and had debated several times with yourself about checking in on him. Again.

Would that come off as too pushing though, you wonder? Although it's not like last time, where you only lasted two days before you skipped off to his hive.

Kankri made it easier to watch anyway, picking such a public avenue to speak from, then you didn't have to bother with the formalities like actually paying attention. He never asked you to repeat what he just said and give you a very exasperated sigh when your only reply is an uncomfortable shrug of your shoulders.

Speaking of which, you should probably mentally check back in to make sure Aranea hasn't flown off the deep end with your unresponsiveness yet.

“With a mast taller than any building you've ever seen, Spinneret Mindfang's flagship was the most grandiose vessel ever to set sail on Alternian seas- everything from the timber to the bolts was crafted from the most illustrious-”

Perfect, she hasn't noticed you zoning out yet. Maybe you could get away with it today, no guilt tripping for you!

Lets see, where had your daydreams left off last time? Ah yes, your as-yet-unnamed-heroine was on the verge of making a huge breakthrough in the- oh drat you forgot the genre of this one. Science fiction? No, you finished that story line already. Action-adventure? Sounds closer, but not quite. You wanted to almost say it took place in some sort of creepy abandoned castle. Oh right! She was about to trip into the book case that hid the secret passage! That passage was important because... why was that again...

That's how the murderer had been getting around, of course! A mystery daydream, a pleasant change from your usual romantic story-lines.

Not that it didn't have a romantic sub-plot, it just wasn't romance centric. Honestly you couldn't help yourself. You loved seeing the happy (or spiteful, depending on your mood) couple get together in the end.

Your heroine ~~walked~~ treaded down the ~~hall~~ stone corridor, walls painted (drat, what was a color you haven't used in awhile?) a... dark and... hmm, earthy... brown, the color of freashy ~~dug~~ mulled soil. She cringed, recognizing the caste of one of the other guests, noting how ~~happily~~ cheerfully he'd ~~eaten~~ gorged himself, only the night before. If he'd known that would be his last meal, maybe he would have sprung for desserts...

“MEULIN!!!!!!!!”

A grip on your shoulder snapped you violently back to reality, blinking a few times to get your bearings. Aranea was facing you with a serious scowl, half of you tensed up before you remembered that this wasn't your daydream, Aranea wasn't the murderer, nor was this the creepy abandoned castle it was all set in.

You gave her a sheepish grin, but her scowl intensified, so you dropped it rather quickly.

“Honestly what's the point in asking me to tell you a story every day if you're not going to pay attention!”

“I sometimes pay attention Pawranea, but it's furry hard to when you spend ten mewnutes describing what the weather was like.”

“You just have not appreciation for proper world building. It's hard to get an idea of the stage if no time is spent describing the setting and the scenery!”

“But Pawraneaaaaaaaa!” You made sure to put exactly eight syllables in whining, trying to soften her just a bit. “You know furry well I have a hard time paying attention fur too long, and you know exactly why too!”

The Scorpio troll gave a long, drawn out sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose in that long-suffering sort of way.

“Meulin, the _least_ you can do is give your rapt attention to someone when you've asked something of them.”

“I know- I'm sorry, really I am!”

“That's what you've said the last seven days. I'm not looking to make it eight. Just... give yourself a break tomorrow. Please. If not for you, then for me. Give me a break tomorrow.”

Well frick.

“Alright Pawranea, I unpurrstand. I apawlogize fur my actions, and I'll give you a break tomewrrow.” You give her your best apologetic smile, which she receives with a loud harrumph. Or at least you guessed it was loud, from the way her shoulders gave an exaggerated heave. 

She muttered something, and you missed whatever it was because you both weren't paying attention anymore, and her head was half turned away.

“What?”

“I said you should just go ask the Insufferable instead of me, I'm sure he'd be glad to see you.”

You gave a curious quirk of your head. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought she'd put quite a bit of emphasis on that last word. A better knowing part of your head knew not to press her any further, your curiosity would have to wait. After all, how did that human saying go? Curiosity killed the meow-beast?

“Alright then... have a good day Pawranea...”

Something we definitely up. As you waked back to your hive, (deciding that prodding Kankri wasn't a good idea. Yet, at least.) you caught the barest of shoulder jitters from passer bys- snickers from trolls whose faces you barely recognized and couldn't even put a name too.

Needless to say, it was starting to get slightly unnerving. It wasn't the first time you've caught strangers giggling when they thought you weren't looking, it's been happening a lot the last few days. Your head ran through a mental list of what you've done lately, something strange and out of the ordinary that would have made you the possible subject of gossip, and made exactly zero conclusions. It was only a matter of time before simple curiosity would grow into near insanity, you'd done it before too. When Horuss and Rufioh were flushed flirting, you were determined to be the first to know when Rufioh and Damara broke up. Admittedly, you were disappointed in the two for hooking up before the break up, but waiting for the confirmation was agonizing.

Oh well, past events and old ships sank as new ones sail, such was the way of life. Or death, in this case. Being politically correct was difficult.

You slowly pull yourself out of your inner thoughts to find that your feet had been in motion the last few minutes you'd been zoning. This wasn't the path to your hive...

Shit, somehow you'd walked straight to Kankri's. How even-? Yours was nearly in the opposite direction. Maybe your subconscious was craving more mindless chatter, sounded plausible at least.

Maybe asking him to indulge you a little wouldn't be so bad, it's not like anyone else really paid him any mind.

Okay so that was a low blow, even if it was only a mental one.

Besides, it'd been sever days and no one had seen hide nor hair of the candy-red blooded troll. A check up visit wouldn't hurt. Yes, just a courtesy visit, you could live with that. And if he had time you ould ask him to tell you about that book he'd been into last time you popped by.

Your hand hovered over the door for a brief second. You sent a silent plea into the skies above that he would actually be home to answer. You knocked.

As you waited, you tried imagining him stumbling around inside, never mind that a stumbling Kankri would be very out of character. Perhaps even tripping over an end table, making quite the racket as he sprinted for the door. More of your imagination was poured into trying to remember the different type of sounds that could be associated with that sort of ruckus. What did falling wood sound like again? How much different was it from footfalls? How did a door sound when the hinges badly needed to be greased?

“Ms. Le- Meulin.” You were surprised to see the slightly quickened rise and fall of his chest, obviously trying to even out his breathing as though he'd actually made a mad dash for the door. Weird. 

“Hi Kankitty!” You smiled your greetings, even gave a small wave which he was quick to reciprocate. “You disappurred pawgain- I was starting to think you'd dropped out of the bubbles or double died or somefurring!”

“Err- no. I've been... ah, brushing up on more neglected literature. Thought I'd take some time for myself.” You weren't totally certain, but you had the vaguest idea that the last sentence had been raised up in question almost. “Um. Would you … like to come in?”

He stepped inside and made a small motion with his arm, gesturing in to his hive, to which you smiled.

“Sure, thanks Nyankri!” You stepped inside after him, but couldn't help but notice the way he was trying, and badly failing, to hide his fidgeting. It was a shot in the dark, but you couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with the snickers from the passing trolls.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He motioned to a couch on the far end of the room, plush but stiff looking at the same time. Hardly used, you'd wager a guess. “Tea?”

“Purrlease!” You settled into the corner of the couch, tucking your feet under you. Definitely stiff and underused. Kankri shuffles awkwardly into his kitchen, leaving you alown with your thoughts for the several minutes it takes for the water to boil.

The room was fairly spartan, just the couch, chair, and a table that separated them. Nothing on the walls, they almost seemed a little cold and lonely. Although it wasn't something you wouldn't have expected for him, you'd have been more surprised to see any sort of flashy decoration hanging around.

You got up to pace a bit, pass the time while you waited. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a book case, half hidden by an alcove in the wall. You were in front of it in an instant, hands skimming over the spines, thick volumes and clearly well aged bindings. Mental notes to ask about his collection later, seemed like a delightfully long topic of conversation.

How long has it been now? Wasn't that long enough for tea to boil? What was taking so long?

Just as you walk to the door to investigate, Kankri was rounding the corner with cups in hand. He jumped, nearly dropping both cups despite not actually bumping into you.

“Meulin! My d-deepest apologies!” His face turned a bright red, clearly flustered by the near spill.

“It's pawlright- see? No harm done! I'm purrfectly feline!”

“Right, yes, feline- I mean fine!” His face burned brighter, and you couldn't help but giggle at his accidental use of your cat pun. It was kind of cute, anyway.

You were quick to settle back down into your claimed spot on the couch, tea smelling delicously like catmint, and it was enough to make your mouth water.

“I er... was fairly sure you'd like it.”

He must have noticed you eying your cup, mistaking your stair for apprehension of some sort, probably.

“I love catmint, I'm just surpurrised you have it.”

Whatever the reason, apparently he didn't feel inclined to share as to why he just so happened to have your favorite flavor. Couldn't have been a very popular choice in the least. You just sipped from your offered cup, savoring the heat and taste while pushing the questions away. You certainly had enough curiosity as is without adding to it. Kankri just sipped from his cup without another word.

The two of you shared the silence for a little bit, it was kind of nice, even if it's not why you came in the first place. Halfway through your cup you look up. He's staring rather intently at his cup, almost as if it's going to jump up and start doing tricks for him. Again, weird.

“Kankri can I ask you somefurring?” Did he just tense up?

“Of course, I'll do my best to answer.”

“Did you hear anyfurring strange lately? I've been getting an awfurrl lot of strange looks and it's starting to bug me.”

You half expected him to go into some sort of raving tirade, as you just realized what you said could literally be translated as 'I've been triggered' in Kankri's way of thinking. You tried to keep the expectant look off your face.

Instead he looked... relieved? 

“No, not to my knowledge.”

You were so confused, but not satisfied.

“Nothing at all? It's been happurrning fur a few days now.”

“I'm afraid not- I've been at home remember?”

Right, valid point. Still, you had a nagging feeling that just wouldn't quit, but you were unsure of how to pursue it furthter. Begrudgingly, you let the topic drop.

“Right! What have you been reading then? I hope it's been inpurresting enough to keep your pawttention.”

Kankri relaxed again, finally sinking into the other side of the couch with his cup set down on the table.  
“Interesting you ask, I've had time to finish and reread Complacency of the Learned, it's so much better the second time through. There was so much foreshadowing in the first chapters that I missed at first, and feel I can better appreciate the time the author took to do her research. Did you know the basis of naming all of the wizards was tied into...”

It wasn't long before you were focusing less on his word and more on the movements of his mouth. That shape made this sound, and based on the expressiveness in his face it had this sort of inflection, which would have made this kind of impact on the listener. Hmm,you'd never noticed the way his eyes get all squinty whenever he gets really into his topic. Maybe you shouldn't sit so far away from now on? These were the kind of details you'd often missed.

Oh, there go the hand movements, making motions and gestures to nonexistent things and shaping out objects with single movements of both hands. It took a mental reminder that he wasn't signing, that he didn't know any signs other than the alphabet. You knew that already, but you were confused for a second when his hand gestures looked vaguely like the word 'good' once or twice.

He stops suddenly for some reason, and glances out the window. You follow his line of sight, seeing rain hitting against the glass. Strange, it didn't usually rain in the bubbles. Unless someone was remembering the rain, then it wasn't so strange. It was slow at first, soft splashes against the panes, but oddly enough it built up until all you could see was water cascading down the glass. You glanced back to Kankri, and he frowned.

“Someone's either highly upset right now, which isn't very likely. I don't think the weather patters have actually fluctuated with someone's mood before. Or someone's being rather cruel with their remembrance of the weather.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “Ah, right you can't... just keep watching the window, you'll see.”

You looked out again, seeing nothing for a long while, until-

“Lightning!” You nearly hop out of the couch and press your face into the window. You used to love the sounds of the storms. Rain hitting the ground, the low rumble of thunder in the distance, all sounds of life giving way to the storm. You really did miss it.

You turned away from the window, throwing back a bright grin.

“Its lightning! And rain! I haven't seen a storm in a long time!”

The clouds were thick, rolling slowly across the sky. It wasn't too long, however, before they blotted out the light from the above. Your stomach did an uncomfortable flip for half a second before Kankri turned on one of the lights, the ceiling flickering to life. Speaking of uncomfortable, he was very very stiff now. The kind of way that reminded you the first time you'd brought fresh prey to a friend, proudly displaying your hunting achievements. 

“You okay?” You asked with a tilt of your head, hoping your concern came across well enough.

“I'm fine. I suppose I very well can't in all good conscience let you leave like this. It'll pass in good time, I'm sure. In the mean time, it doesn't look safe outside. Practically raining sideways, from the looks of things.”

Well, you really couldn't argue. As much as you liked the rain you didn't exactly enjoy getting wet. To be fair, most olive-bloods like yourself didn't either and avoided it wherever possible.

“Agreed.” You gave a short nod of your head, that was punctuated by the flashing of the light over head. The uncomfortable flipping of your stomach turned into tight, almost painful clenches.

“Meulin?” This time Kankri was the one who looked concerned. “Are you alright? You're pale as a-”

You never did find out what you were apparently pale as, the lights flashed out in that instant, and everything went pitch black. Every muscle in your body froze up. 

You used to really like the dark, it was a comfort to have, a thrill even, but that was when the sounds around you were there to take up the void of darkness. Now, the dark was a threat. You couldn't see, you couldn't hear, you were robbed of two important senses and that was terrifying.

You must have loosened up at some point, because suddenly you were on the ground and shivering. Panic rose, all you could think was how it felt like someone was gripping your neck. There was a lump in your throat that you couldn't breath around. You kicked once, scrambling backwards until you were pressed into the wall. 

You weren't aware you were sobbing until you brought your knees to your face, a desperate attempt to curl in on yourself and be as small as possible, and felt the wet from your cheeks smear against your legs. You found yourself easily not caring, your world was blank and for all you knew nothing except the wall behind you and the floor under you existed.

Pressure on your shoulder made you jerk, your head hit the wall and started a painful but dull throb. The pressure shifted until it encircled your whole body, and suddenly you've got a face full of scratchy wool. It takes several long moments before you realize those are arms around you, and you're face first in a sweater, admittedly longer still to remember where you were and by process of elimination, who was holding you.

Kankri picks up your hand, slow and delicate as if you were going to break to bits from under him, and writes slow letters on your palm.

_It's okay_

Your trembling slowed, and you find yourself sniffling and hiccuping instead off sobbing grossly.

_You're safe, I promise ___

__You just buried your face in his sweater, wiping away the wet from your cheeks and shutting out the dark._ _

___I_ _ _

__There was a long pause that you didn't know what to make heads or tails of. Honestly, you didn't know what to make of the situation as a whole. But you didn't care, you were grateful for it. He dropped your hand and just held you tight until you stopped shaking. And even then didn't let go. He rubbed your back slowly, comforting you still. It helped, it really did, knowing that in the void of the blind and deaf he was anchoring you in reality._ _

__“I've got you, Meulin.”_ _

__Really, it's a shame you didn't hear it._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to apologize for the rushed feeling towards the end of this. I honestly don't know how to write someone having a sudden panic attack. And for goodness sake, four chapters in and I forgot I started this for fluff. I needed fluff really bad. In any case, I'll explain the storm away later, you may be slightly surprised.


	5. I literally do not know how to handle myself in this situation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On your hands and kneels, you clean up the mess, hoping that the floor wasn't darker after you'd sopped up all the tea you'd spilled in your rush across the room. Just to be sure, you started scrubbing at the spill. Your muscles push into the floor, and soon enough you're working at a ferocious pace, throwing the stress of _her_ being _here_ into the woodwork. How she made you say things you didn't get a chance to think about first, how she made you move without your consent, how her just being _there_ made your head foggy and all of your thoughts muddled.
> 
> This infuriated you to no end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as pleased with this chapter, writer's block said 'NO WRITING FOR YOU' so it's kind of crap >.> My apologies.

Honest to goodness you have no idea what you were thinking. Just a little while ago you were uncomfortable with the idea of letting her stay at your place, and now you were holding her in the dark while rain and thunder drummed away in the distance. You weren't entirely sure, but judging by the way Meulin was breathing both softly and evenly, you could guess that she'd managed to fall asleep.

Great.

Now you were stuck on the floor supported only by the wall at your side with a curled up cat girl in your lap. Never mind that you would probably get just as sore, being stuck like this for goodness only knows how long. Right now, you were at a total loss of what to do.

You glanced at the window above your head, awkwardly craning your head while trying to move as little as possible. Only the barest flashes of light from the lightning strikes illuminated the stark gray clouds, blanketing all of the sky that you could see. Thick, ugly looking, and blotchy. 

Turning your head back down, you waited for another lightning flash. It took a long time, but eventually you were gifted a momentary illumination of Meulin's face. Granted, it was half hidden in your sweater, but it brought the confirmation that she was asleep. Eyes shut, face relaxed, although she still had fistfuls of your sweater, her grip hadn't relaxed. 

It was actually kind of a relief to see her looking so peaceful instead of, well, whatever other faces she could have been making in those few seconds of sheer panic she displayed just before your lights ceased functioning. In that small span of time where your mind went absolutely blank, filled only by her terrified sobbing. It twisted things in your gut that you didn't know could feel so pained, and all you could think to do was just... bolt from where you'd been sitting and go to her.

In the complete darkness, you'd managed to trip into your end table along the way, spilling hot tea across your shins. It throbbed now, but in the heat of the moment you distinctly remember not caring at all. You knelt in front of her with a hand on her shoulder, she flinched at the touch, you asked twice what was wrong before stupidly realizing she had no means of understanding you. 

You remember the twist in your gut twisting even worse when you realized exactly what was wrong, even as she trembled under you hand. You didn't think, your body acted of it's own accord, as you wrapped your arms around her tight. You mentally cursed yourself out, repeating your previous mistake by trying to say soothing things out loud.

She flinched again as you picked her hand up. Trying to be as soft as possible, you didn't want to scare her any further, you write down what you'd been saying on her palm. The result was near instantaneous, she quieted and stilled, and curled up tight in your lap. You were getting so carried away with trying to comfort her you'd nearly wrote things that probably should stay unsaid. 

You didn't want to give her any wrong ideas or anything.

And you couldn't begin to explain your relief that there was no ideas for her to have in the first place. Surely your little slip up with Mituna had gone viral by now. It was easy to see your mistake looking back, the yellow-blooded psiionic was much smarter than you gave him credit for. You were banking on his supposed inability to understand you, and you paid the price for it. 

Come to think of it, unless she wasn't approached directly about it from someone else (which was a miracle in of itself.) Meulin actually had no way of getting gossip. She couldn't exactly eaves drop on a conversation, at least not easily. 

The whoosh of relief that followed made Meulin shift slightly, fingers finally slipping free from their death grip on your sweater and instead hanging loosely around your sides. You tensed, half expecting her to wake. Not yet, apparently.

What were you going to do when she woke up even? To say it was going to be an awkward encounter would be quite the understatement of which the magnitude you didn't want to begin to try and describe.

“You're ruining me Meulin.” You muttered darkly, knowing fully well that she couldn't hear you, and that was something you praised your lucky stars for. “I can't understand what you're doing to my head and it's infuriating.” You shift as slowly as possible, trying to either slip out or get comfortable, you couldn't tell which one you wanted more. 

The overwhelming need to take care of your tea soaked shins made the decision for you. The wet fabric against your skin was starting to make you squirm, not to mention you were losing feeling in everything under your knees from the way you were sitting. Little by little you inched your way out from under her, trying to be as slow and gentle as possible. With only a few twitches and a mumble from her, you escaped otherwise without a single incident.

First order of business was to shake out the pins and needles that suddenly flooded your lower legs. With some awkward shuffling, you stepped away, shaking your feet out as you went to look for your other pants. She'd be okay on the floor like that right? Of course she would.

So you stumbled into your respiteblock, feeling the walls to find your way around your way there and to locate your dresser without using your shins as a pair of locate-the-things-in-the-dark devices. You tossed the old pair into a basket for cleaning later, making a mental note that the growing pile of to be cleaned laundry desperately needed tending too. A week at home and you'd been too lethargic to get much of the important things done, go figure.

You grab one of the last semi-clean sweaters and leave after you've changed, throwing it over Meulin before heading into the kitchen. At least if she shifted and her skirt road up, accidentally of course, you wouldn't see it. That would save some integrity between the two of you, you'd hope. You continued into the kitchen, blindly feeling around for a rag, something to clean up the mess on the floor. Hopefully the tea hasn't settled into a stain just yet.

On your hands and kneels, you clean up the mess, hoping that the floor wasn't darker after you'd sopped up all the tea you'd spilled in your rush across the room. Just to be sure, you started scrubbing at the spill. Your muscles push into the floor, and soon enough you're working at a ferocious pace, throwing the stress of _her_ being _here_ into the woodwork. How she made you say things you didn't get a chance to think about first, how she made you move without your consent, how her just being _there_ made your head foggy and all of your thoughts muddled.

This infuriated you to no end.

Although, not the same way her first appearance had on you. The more you mulled over your thoughts, the more you were angry at yourself. How did you even let it get this bad? Why didn't you just cut everything and avoid the entire unpleasant situation in the first place? Why couldn't you just ignore it entirely?

The palms of your hand felt raw, you must have been scrubbing for awhile now. It's more than clean, this you were sure of, but your arms wouldn't stop their assault, even trembling slightly from exertion. At least, you were assuming it was the exertion. Definitely was that, yeah.

You look at your hands, noticing you can see them now. The clouds overhead parting and letting the light filter down. There was a light sheen to your palms, you must have managed to rub off a layer of your skin, they throbbed with a dull pain that confirmed it. You pushed yourself to your feet with a low groan, your joints aching slightly from being hunched over for god-knows how long, a few pop painfully as if to remind you to not to remain so statuesque next time.

You curse at yourself under your breath, rubbing gingerly at the flesh. Probably should wash it, maybe a later of bandages to make absolute sure that you're not going to get an infection or something, you could never be too sure. At least you'd be able to make it around your hive without banging into anything.

A shifting sound behind you immediately has your total and undivided attention, as Meulin sits up and rubs her eyes. The sweater slips off her front and pools in a mass of folds in her lap. She blinks and rubs her eyes, looking around with a clear bit of confusion on her face.

“Storms past.” You mention, looking back at her. Hopefully it was light enough for her to read, you didn't want to have to repeat yourself. You wipe your hands off on your pants, wincing from the stinging pain.

“How'd you mewnage to hurt yourself?” Her too-loud voice was saturated with groggy slurs as she got up to her feet, her eyes wide as they adjusted to the dim light that was slowly getting brighter. You find yourself slightly impressed that she managed to shoe-horn in a cat pun despite just waking up. As quickly as the thought passes through your head you shake it away. 

“I was simply scrubbing the floor, I got a little carried away in doing so.” You shrug a little, giving your hand a little wave to gesture the unimportance of the whole matter. You can see the redness in the flesh though, and it still stings a little. Despite what you said, you desperately want to wash them in clean water and get them bandaged. She got up as you went through your internal conversation with yourself, straightening her sweater and her skirt.

“At least it doesn't look incredipurrly bad...” She picked up your hand by the wrist, an action that surprised you enough that you didn't stop her as she turned your hand palm side up to inspect the damage done to your skin. “Pawlthoughy you purrobably should get it cleaned- just in case.”

You find yourself nodding dumbly, despite being told nothing you didn't already know. She simply smiled at you, and you still could see traces of sleep in her expression. It was kind of- 

You stopped that thought in its track, before some sort of decimating adjective could attach on to the end.

“Quite right, so if you would excuse me for the moment...” You manage to snatch your hand back, and flee as quickly as you can into the bathroom to wash up and retrieve your bandages. You breath a sigh of relief, the distance seems to clear your head a little. First thing you needed you knew is that you needed to, as fast and politely as you could, get Meulin out of your hive.

The soap stun, even cracked some of the creases in your hands as your ran the hot water over your skin. It didn't bleed, instead stung more than the raw skin itself. Still, you'd stand all the pain just to know it was clean. Even if the little fibers of the towel seemed to find their ways right in the creases, even then. At least it was clean.

Trying to bandage your hands was another story entirely, being unable to fully bend your fingers was frustrating enough, not having the knowledge to actually use the bandages correctly was infuriating. You couldn't keep it tight enough to say on, and after several anger-inducing minutes attempting to do it the right way, you gave up and accepted defeat in the form of clumsily-wrapped gauze that twisted uncomfortably in some places.

“Oh Kankritter that looks pawful!” 

Crap.

And here you were half hoping she would have left while you were preoccupied in the bathroom. Maybe you should have taken longer, she might have gotten bored and left.

You stood there awkwardly in the doorway to your living room, hands held out half in front of you, trying to avoid any unnecessary or accidental brushing against anything and everything. They were also in full view of the cat-girl, who could see the loose loops of the strips that hung from your lame first-aid attempts. Whatever, it worked, sort of.

And you certainly didn't give her _permission to touch you!_

“Here! I'm rafurr good with this- I used to get banged up hunting with cat mom all the time!” Her nimble fingers undid the knot you'd managed to tie with an ease that unnerved you slightly. Meulin easily pulled the strips off your right hand, you winced as the movement caused you discomfort, then quickly rewound the bandages to your palm until there was just enough pressure to numb your palm. She made quick work of the left side, and you were too busy marveling at the relief to do anything about it, or to notice the way her hands on yours lingered just a moment too long, or how warm her skin on yours felt.

No, that was a lie, you were all too aware of that now.

“There, that's better, isn't it?” She grinned with a small slice of a teeth showing.

“Ah...” Your ever-plentiful river of words seemed to fail you. She was close, too close. Push her away, flee to a room with a dead-bolt, just leave, _anything_ what she was doing to your head couldn't possibly be good. The jitters that little smile was giving your stomach made you want to vomit, vomiting wasn't a thing people wanting to experience, right? How could anyone in their right mind possibly want these terrible feelings forced upon them.

“S-seems the rain's stopped.” You could have cursed yourself out right then and there for stuttering.

Her smile wavered for a moment as she turned to the window.

“You're right! And it's much brighpurr out too- speaking of which...” She turned to you with the most sheepish expression you've ever seen. “My deepest apawlogies fur furreaking out like I did. Totally empurrassing! Purromise me you won't tell anykitty!”

You'd take the entire happenings of the night to your double-death but for entirely different reasons than the kitty-troll was worried over.

“I wasn't planning on-”

“No you have to purromise me!” She stuck one hand up, fist closed buck pinky extended with an overly-serious expression poised on her features. “Swear it on your life!”

“The concept of swearing anything on my 'life' is not only ridiculous, but impossible on several notions including being an intangible concept and also the obvious being that we're currently dead, existing only in the limbo of-”

“Kankri!”

Stalling, you knew you were stalling, staring at that outstretched hand she held out for you. She wasn't going to give up until you upheld the stupid human pinky-promise ritual. You thanked your lucky stars for the pale eyes that marked death, she wouldn't notice how hard you were staring then.

“Purrlease?”

You felt your weakening will power bend, and bit back a sigh of utter defeat. You extended one pinky, although not having the maneuverability in your hands to close the rest of your fist, and hooked it with hers. Still warm, her skin against yours, but somehow it burned like a branding iron that lingered long after she disconnected. 

It lingered long after she took a step back and said something about thanking you for your 'hospurrtality' and letting her stay throughout this 'furreaking spurrt of weather'. 

It lingered long after you said something that must have vaguely resembled a good bye, because she left with a satisfied smile still pulling the corners of her mouth upward.

It lingered long after she'd left you alone in your own hive, mind reeling and replaying the events that had literally just transpired.

The effect she had on you honestly was terrifying.


	6. I Tried, I'm Not Sure I Wanted To In The First Place.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How exactly were you supposed to execute any sort of action when half the intended party was being a fuckin' weenie about something as idiotic as a rumor that, you internally reminded yourself, didn't even exist because you are a self depriving masochist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a terrible person who updates slowly but Kurloz was giving me a run around personality wise and may have altered my intended plot a bit.

Your name is Kurloz Makara and you've go it on the down-low that some scrawny-ass mother fucker's been trying to mack on your mirthful kitty-bitch.

Not that it's a bad thing. Actually, you've had your suspicions ever since said 'scrawny-ass mother fucker' came to you acting rather out of character and inquiring about Meulin. Mituna confirmed your thoughts and as far as you know, you're the only one he's told. It took an awful lot of pantomiming to convince your half-witted moirail that he definitely should not run the rumor around like the metaphorical village two-wheel device.

After all, you and Meulin aren't like most typical ex-matesprits. See Damara and Rufioh for a prime example of that. She's still one of your closet friends, the two of you are still on great terms and everything. Both of you had come to terms with the tragic events of your shared past, although admittedly it took some time to get over the lingering awkwardness whenever either of you were near each other.

Now, you certainly are no Mage of Heart like your little kitten, and you're forte wasn't the (as she always so lovingly puts it) red ships, but you've certainly got a plan. 

To be perfectly honest, you don't like Kankri. He's got a superiority complex that's large enough to do battle with Cronus's self-inflated ego. In fact, you've mentioned on more than one occasion that the two would make a nice but subtle black ship, (you were a lot better at spotting the pitch-tinted relation ships anyway). It made a lot of sense now the way she always skirted around that subject. To be fair, you'd thought it had something to do with her apprehension of shipping the Ampora in any quadrant whatsoever. 

In any case, your dislike of the obnoxious red-sweatered troll was heavily out-weighed by your desire to see Meulin happy, she deserved it after all. No one knew that better than you did, and if there was even the chance that he'd do it, you were going to make that happen. That being said, the least you could do right now was give the two a prod in the right direction. Or two or three. You weren't exactly sure how much pushing and prodding it'd take to get through, as either of the two in question could be pretty dense most of the time.

Your plan of attack was going to take some serious thinking over.

And possibly a miracle. 

No matter, being dead had it's perks. Such as the near infinite span of time that was everyone's new existence. At least, until the messiah's struck down with the angel of double-death. Until then, you had near infinite time to contemplate the most delicate way to shove those two together. You'd like to imagine in more perfect after-life that it wouldn't be so hard. Then you force yourself to remember you've tasked yourself with a seemingly impossible task, and if it were in anyway easy it would have happened already.

Perhaps a bit of advise wouldn't hurt.

The problem now, was trying to decide on just _who_ to get advise from. You had to be awfully careful after all. From your experience watching ships with your kitten, outing a potential couple too soon often sunk them before anything serious could happen.

The first person that came to mind was Porrim, the two of you shared a rather brief one-night-kismesissitude. One that you both walked away from with no hard feelings. Your only source of apprehension was that you knew she was no stranger to gossip, although her obvious pale-crush on Vantas could be worked to your advantage, you'd rather not tread those uncertain waters.

Latula was your next choice, and it seemed like a solid idea. She and Mituna had been in their own matespritship for so long, the two seemed like an authority on the subject, almost on par with Meulin herself. But your moirail's disgruntled face flashed in your mind. You were at least four hundred and thirteen percent certain he'd be rather upset if you told his matesprit the situation while he was currently under a ban from telling anyone himself.

You very briefly considered Meulin herself, perhaps under the falsehood of writing a fanfiction, or something of the like, but Meulin wasn't quite so small minded. If any of her suggestions happened before her eyes, she'd recognize them in an instant. Then, a brilliant idea of a sort hit. It was only a hunch, but one worth pursuing.

It took a lot of bubble hopping to find the troll you were looking for, coming across several different versions of not only the others from your session, but strangers, those strange alien creatures called human, and even a few of yourself. When you found the alternate olive-blood in question, however, she didn't seem quite as happy to see you a you to finally find her. Actually, she looked down right livid.

“ _YOU!_ ” Her voice came out as a snarl, with a fair bit of fangs showing to boot. You could recognize aggression when it was in your face, you just weren't quite sure why it was being directed at you.

Hands worked in slow signs, your only form of communication since... well since that incident. Her expression wavered for only an instant, showing the confusion underneath. 

“Are you trying to confuse me or something? It's not gunna work Makara.” She pointed an accusing finger, to which you pointed to the pitch-black stitches that ran in even rows across your mouth. Her finger dropped, as did the rest of her apparently misplaced rage.

“Oh you... you're not Gamzee are you?”

You shook your head, and she cast her ghostly white eyes downward, mumbling something akin to an apology. You gave a wave of your wrist, trying to convey 'no hard feelings' without getting too complicated on her. Obviously, Meulin's ecto-other didn't know sign language like she did. Shame, you were really hoping for insight here. At least, that was banking on the idea that the young troll in front of you had the same knack for shipping.

“You can't talk at all can you?”

You severely wanted pupils to roll your eyes with, but a nod would have to suffice for an answer. She looked thoughtful for a moment, tapping her chin as if the action would process whatever was going on in her think pan any faster.

“Oh, here try this then!” She pulled out a tablet from seemingly no where, you'd bet your existence that she pulled it from a sylladex though. You'd have taken a moment of silence to commemorate whatever roll she played in her own session, seeing as she was dead it couldn't have ended well, if the irony of the very thought didn't already make you miss your irises for the same reason as last time. 

The tablet already had a program loaded on the screen, some kind of painting application it seemed if you had to take a guess. She shoved the stylus in your hand with a kind of expectant face.

“I'm Nepeta.” She smiled, that same cat-like grin that was the spitting image of Meulin. At least you were certain that you had the right troll now.

_KURLOZ_

Your handwriting wasn't the best, you never claimed it was. At least it was legible to anyone with a solid grasp on the written language.

“Okay so, Kurloz... What are you doing here anyway?”

She crossed her arms, trying to look serious. With her likeness to Meulin, the lack of cat puns in her standard speech was fairly unnerving.

_I HAVE A SMALL... SHALL WE SAY... DILEMMA THAT I HOPE YOU CAN LEND A MOTHER FUCKING HAND WITH_

She pulled a sour face at your message this time, reaching over and scribbling over the profanity you've always slipped into your phrases. Mother fuck was as encoded into your vocabulary as the word 'the', and that right there almost felt like an insult.

“What in the world do you think I could possibly help with?”

_DON'T YOU MEAN 'PAWSIBLY'?_

You caught the upward twitch of her lips, but her gaze held, waiting for an answer. Looks like you were going to have to forge ahead without cat puns. 

_WELL TO BE ~~MOTHER FUCKIN~~ FRANK, I NEED HELP GETTING TWO TROLLS TOGETHER. PREFERABLY IN SOME ~~MIRTHFUL~~ RED TERRITORY_

She visibly perked up (after crossing off more words, that little shit) once you finished. Judging from her reaction, your hunch was right, and Nepeta Leijon would be able to help you get the job done. She gave a little nod urging you to continue your explanation. Which you did.

Not that you could explain too much, you only knew a little bit yourself. You weren't even sure Meulin's feelings towards he mutant for certain, only that she spent an awful lot of time around him as of late. It was a long shot, but by the end of it, Nepeta agreed that it was a long shot worth trying. She even seemed rather enthusiastic about helping, immediately spouting off several ideas and situations that could force them in a situation together.

“From what I can figure, the best pawsibility would be to get them in close quarters with one another fur a length of time.”

Made sense, although now you kind of wished she hadn't gotten comfortable enough to use cat puns. You just stood there and hoped that she wouldn't shoe-horn in obscure puns in every sentence, you didn't feel like deciphering pun-speak at the moment.

“Not just togefurr, they need a... catalyst of some sort... Some sort of deep emotional reaction that's going to get them close! Something like empathy towards a shared experience, a moment of intimacy that'll be your making or breaking point. Sink or swim, that's how you'll know there's something there to kindle into a relationship.”

You pondered this for a moment.

_KANKRI ISN'T EXACTLY THE TYPE OF ~~MOTHER FUCKER~~ TO GET CLOSE TO ANYONE._

“Then we're going to have to force his paw. Lets see... nofurring brings an unexpurrted couple togefurr quite like a little bit of hurt and comfurrt.”

_I AM NOT KEEN ON HURTING MEULIN._

“Hmm, I guess that poses a slight kink in my idea...” 

Nepeta tapped her chin, looking off in the distance with a rather thoughtful expression on her face. It was quite obvious that she was giving this a decent bit of thought, something that you were quite grateful for. Several times she opened her mouth to say something, only to shake her head and go back to ruminating in silence, punctuated only by occasional low muttering.

An idea of your own hit you so suddenly that you actually physically flinched.

“Are you okay?” She quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head, and oh god did she remind you of your kitty bitch, mannerisms and all.

_THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR HELP LITTLE KITTY ~~BITCH~~ BUT I THINK I KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO NOW._

*****

So apparently Kankri wasn't coming out of his hive. It'd been a week, literally a week and he was still inside his hive, hiding away for what you can only assume was his conversation with Mituna and it's not so idealistic ending. Although hiding away like a little bitch wasn't going to help matter, even if you hadn't intercepted Mituna first.

Also, you've leaned the hard way how fast rumors can run, because inquiring about the red-blooded troll several times over the course of the week to several different people apparently means that _you're_ the one with the crush on _him_. You'd deny it vehemently if it didn't shift perspective away from Meulin. Lets be honest here. You'd do back bends for your former matesprit.

However, it would have been a bold faced lie if you didn't say that the very idea sent unpleasant chills down your spine, however.

Although the whole self-imposed hive-arrest put a huge metaphorical wrench in the middle of your plans. How exactly were you supposed to execute any sort of action when half the intended party was being a fuckin' weenie about something as idiotic as a rumor that, you internally reminded yourself, didn't even exist because you are a self depriving masochist. This was chalked up on your slowly increasing list of shit you would do to make Meulin happy. 

So here you are, hiding just outside his hive waiting for him to leave (hopefully sometime soon or you're going to start pulling your hair out.) And it's been hells boring, just two days in and you were ready to barge in and drag his sorry ass out. Subtle, you had to remind yourself over and over again. Now that a week has passed, you were _really_ ready to go drag his sorry ass out.

A knock on the front door brought you out of your daydream, one in which you were strangling the mutant idiot by the wool of his own fugly sweater. To your surprise, there she was, waiting at the door with her hands twisting behind her back to mark her impatience. For a little while, you contemplated leaving now, although this presented the perfect opportunity, a miracle delivered right to your lap. Something in the back of your think pan didn't want it to happen though, a quiet voice you though that you had silenced God knows how many sweeps ago. 

It wouldn't work anymore. It couldn't, and for good reason. That was the reason this improbable plot in the first place.

You found yourself a safe place, and settled yourself down for one of the harder thing you've probably ever made yourself do in your life. And yes, that was including the awkward limbo of life after death deal. There probably was an easier memory to choose from, but you weren't sure you had enough time to ruminate on a less afflicting thing to remember into existence. You had to seize this widow of opportunity now, or not at all.

_You must have been at least five, maybe five and a half sweeps old, the pink moon of Beforus shone brightly in the sky. Clouds dotted along the heavens, growing gradually thicker in the distance over the vast ocean that expanded before you. Your lusus hasn't come back in awhile, you swore he was due at anytime to come back. So there you sat, trying your best not to look forlorn with your feet dipped in the wet sands of the shore while the water tickled your toe. Goatdad always got upset when he saw you like that, and you didn't like it when your guardian looked upset. You told yourself daily that you understood that he couldn't stay with you always, he was a sea creature after all. Even if you weren't a sea dweller._

The clouds. Those were easy, they were dark and blotted out the light. Soon the same clouds from that night blanked the sky, covering everything with darkness.

_It was starting to get a bit cold, you could tell but it didn't bother you that much. You actually preferred the cold, it was pleasant and comforting in its own way. The winds brought the rolling waves that had lulled you to sleep for so long. If you weren't so anxious for Goatdad's return, this would have been a perfectly relaxing evening. Mist got in your face and dampened your impossible to manage mop of hair. You should know, you've tried. A few of your acquaintances have tried too, sometimes making a game of it. Usually it just resulted in a few broken combs and hairbrushes by the end of the night. But it also ended in laughs, so many laughs, smiling faces and everyone in high spirits._

You remembered the temperature dropping, the wind picking up it's speed. The first few drop of rain that signaled the start of the storm.

_The first thought that dawned on you was that the water from the sky was going to ruin your carefully applied face paint, not that there was anyone to stand around and appreciate it. As a part of your religion, it was symbolic of your relationship with the Messiahs. Not to mention it was a bitch trying to get runny face paint out of your clothes after. But you couldn't bring yourself to leave just yet, even as the drizzle turned into rain turned into a down pour. Goatdad might come home, and you wouldn't be there to see him get back._

The storm that night caught on quickly, and the tree you were under had little protection from the storm you were creating.

_The suddenly it stopped, well not really. The rain continued pounding against the sea and sand around you, except for over your head it had seemed to vanish all together. You glanced up, confused at the sudden change, to see not sky but the dull green fabric of an umbrella, the pelting sounds of the rain adding to the sound track of the weather currently playing all around you. Your eyes, still dark and not yet filled in with the color of your noble blood, traveled down the umbrella, down the handle, back up the hand that held it, to see the cheerful face of the troll who'd saved you from the rain._

It was actually really hard not to remember that gap in the rain into existence, it might be a tad too noticeable. It wasn't something you wanted to risk in the slightest.

_”Aren't you cold out here?”_

You'd almost forgotten how quiet her voice used to be, even when it silenced the world around you.

_Even though you didn't respond, she stood there under the umbrella with you. Watching the rain make dizzying ripples in the water's expanse, time passing lazily with no complaints from either of you. It wasn't until the sky flashed with near blinding brilliance that either of you were inclined to move from your spots. Meulin helped you to your feet and you offered her a towel to dry off with in your hive, it was only a few footsteps away after all._

Focus. Focus, task at hand. The lightning, remember the lighting and the way it arched across the sky and the deafening boom that came after, the way it rattled your windows and and echoed after. 

_The both of you were just getting cozy inside, each wrapped up in a separate towel but sharing a blanket across your laps as the two of you sat on the couch together. Rain, wind, and thunder played a delightfully chaotic melody outside. Each boom and clap of thunder and lighting elicited a giggle of pure joy from the little Leo next to you._

The lights flickered about then. In the next moment you heard a blood curdling scream that made your heart drop right out of your chest. You were almost done, almost, but it hurt. 

_By the time the both of you were dry, the both of you were huddled together. Shivering and chattering now that the water had sapped all of your warmth. The lights had long since been snuffed out, everything silent save the pelting rain and howling wind and the soft breaths you took along side her. Soon enough the trembling subsided, and you'd thought she'd fell asleep against your shoulder. At least until her voice, so soft you had to concentrate to hear it._

_“I'm so glad I thought to visit you today Purloz.”_

_Such a sweet smile, her entire expression radiated contentment. Your heart fluttered in your chest, and-_

You stopped with a sudden gasp, one that hurt and pulled at your stitches for lack of mobility, holding your head in both hands tight. Your little shelter had done little in the long run against the wind and rain, and your clothes were soaked through and clung against your skin. Face paint ran down your face in a monochromatic rainbow and rubbed off easily on your gloves when you tried to push your hair out of your face.

The rain quickly cleared up, the clouds quickly evaporated, even most of the puddles disappeared in no time at all. Yet there you stood. Just as soaked as that day that was just as engrained in your memory as the day you died. Just as prominent as _that_ day, the one that changed everything and provided the steel for your resolve today.

And as you made your way home, head bowed and dripping everywhere. You couldn't help but wonder what could have been avoided if you didn't kiss Meulin that day. If you hadn't both fostered such a deep and emotionally binding matespritship. If you hadn't hurt her in the first place. If you hadn't known it was best to break it off. 

Then you wouldn't have to do any of this. And it wouldn't be killing you with the finality of letting her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun Dun. Plot twist. Not really. Hopefully back to Kankri's POV next time, maybe not? We'll see where my writing muse takes me when the inspiration strike. I just wanted to write a Kurloz that wasn't totally bat shit/abusive/evil/ect. I succeeded in doing that, but Kurloz wasn't supposed to feel for Meu still he just kinda got away from me while I was writing him >.>


	7. Update- An Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a chapter, rather a minor update in my status

Okay so, sorry first of all for getting anyone’s hopes up for there being an update, because sadly this is not a new chapter. My computer needed a hard reset awhile ago, and I lost the chapter I’d been working on (it’d been like 80% of the way done at that point) and I just kinda lost the will to remake it.

The good news is, I’ll try remaking it now. All it took was one nice comment to know y’all are still interested, thank you!

I’ll try and get it done soon, thank you so much for being patient with me guys.


End file.
